


A Small War

by Oft



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oft/pseuds/Oft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quorra doesn't exactly see things as Clu does, but he doesn't mind. Anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small War

They were on the floor of the throne ship, Clu's body dwarfing Quorra's, entwined and tangled in the folds of his robe and bits of derezzed suit ratting across the hard surface. The view looked down upon the rows of rectified programs, the lights from the inner arena of the rectifier giving off a dark, rich red. The red and gold hues from within the throne room recolored everything except Quorra's white circuits. Clu lapped at them, making Quorra shudder while her fingers tangled and pulled his hair. His hands grasped her thighs, pulling them around his waist while he planted his girth between them, claiming her like everything else he had conquered on the Grid. She cried out, equal parts discomfort and pleasure, and her entire body tightened around him. He bit, she scratched. It was a small, violent war that threatened to overload them both.

* * *

Later, she stood in front of the window looking down at Clu's army. His overshadowing form came up behind her, his fingers gingerly catching the edge of her hair, and drawing it back. She turned her head slightly. He nuzzled against her cheek, and drew his lips to her ear as he pulled her against him. 

'Admiring my work?' Quorra shook her head slowly.

'Despising it.'

'You make it sound so . . . bad.' His tone was light on the surface, but his fingers dug into her as he said it. Dark rimmed eyes turned up at him. 'You'll understand it's for the best, little bird. Just be glad I decided to not turn you over to be part of it.' A rumble danced in his voice now, and he turned her on her heel and invaded her space, forcing her back till she reached the window. Her hands inadvertantly braced against it, saving her balance, though her head was forced forward before her feet stopped. Placing his hands to either side of her, he leaned his head forward, breathing his next words onto her neck. 

'Just remember- it was Flynn himself that made me what I am. In fact, I might as well BE him.' His mouth landed against her throat. He felt the thrum of her muscles underneath his lips as she tried to maneuver away, but he shifted his hands to keep her in place.

'You're not him. . .' there was little conviction in her voice though. He continued his gentle kisses along her throat, working his way along her jawline.

'You want so bad to believe it. How many more times are you gonna tell yourself that, to believe what you're saying?'

'You're no user. But I don't need to keep reminding you.' Clu paused, his eyes catching hers. She had succeeded in irritating him again. He never really got angry anymore, now that Flynn was gone. Both of them were gone, and their disks had proved little use to Clu once the portal shut. Now he just lingered in frustration- at the Grid, at her, at nothing, really. His eyes were telling her he was going to vent his frustration again. Fingers dug into her flesh a little, but he released her. The space between them didn't open up. He stayed right next to her, breathing against her skin, watching her eyes as she looked away.

A quiet snort, then he turned away and sauntered back to his throne. One more solid glare at her, and he sat askew upon it. She stood at the window for a few moments, but she knew she had no other place to leave to. Not unguarded, anyways. Not without his permission. Quorra walked the length of the window, then the peremeter of the room, idly watching the other programs working at their stations. They would look up briefly, but mostly ignored her. The guards within their wall installations were on standby, motionless till Clu needed them. She eventually came back around and stood behind Clu's throne. Quorra turned, the headrest becoming a leaning post for her. Chin resting against knuckles, Clu stared out over the army that filled the deck below.

Quorra quickly found herself dragged over the back of the throne by Clu's grip. He didn't throw her to the floor; instead, he was holding her over his thighs. She struggled against the sudden change in location, and she threw a punch, despite knowing it did little good against him. Clu weathered the blows, sliding the both of them to the floor, and holding on till she tired of working her anger out on him. She had managed to shift her balance with a kick, and he grabbed her thigh, rolling the both of them over, and then held her around the waist as she landed on top, straddling him.

She stopped then, tired of wasting action when it got no real reaction. Clu smirked a little.  
'Done?' He was amused that they were back where they started, positions reversed, and he pulled her down hard to kiss her. Quorra gave in. Less from desire, and more because she really had no other choice. His tongue forged ahead to her open mouth and found hers. Her fingers scratched against his stubble, pushing for a moment against him to catch breath. Suit derezzed again under his touch, baring her hips and thighs as Clu's hands travelled down briefly before heading for her shoulders, pulling her down against him. She parted the front of his robe, exposing his chest and derezzing the armor across his wide torso before settling against him, resting her cheek on his skin.


End file.
